


Turtledove

by HoneyGrunge



Category: BioShock Infinite
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Can also be incest if reader prefers that over selfcest, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Forbidden Love, Oral Sex, Selfcest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:47:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21679234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoneyGrunge/pseuds/HoneyGrunge
Summary: Sometimes you must deny yourself to fully love someone else.
Relationships: Lutecest - Relationship, Robert Lutece/Rosalind Lutece
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	Turtledove

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to interpret this as them either being the same person, as it is in canon, or an incestuous relationship! Either way, references to that are ambiguous in this fic.

The candle on the bedstand flickers, disrupting Robert's reading and alerting him to Rosalind's entry. His sleep-starved eyes flick towards her slim form pausing in his doorway; a small smile graces his handsome features which she can't help but return.

"You're late," he chides.

"Father Comstock was especially demanding tonight. It took every last drop of my willpower to persuade him that nothing more could be done until tomorrow."

"Mm," he muses, triggering a sigh from her. "Did anyone see you on your way here?"

"Of course not," she snaps, shoulders drooping when he flinches. "You know I'm always careful, Robbie."

Sliding the book onto the bedstand, he nods and sits up, swinging his legs out of the king sized bed and reaching out to help her undress. She shuffles backwards and stops when she feels her ass bump against his chest. His legs are warm on either side of her, pajama bottoms soft to the touch. A hot blush fills her cheeks at the thought of his cock bare against that feather-soft material. He never wears undergarments to bed, unlike her. Every night, religiously, she's bundled up in her night bra, panties, and robe.

"Religiously". A word that belongs nowhere near their unholy relationship, lest it sear their sinful fingers and blind their lustful eyes.

A new blush joins Rosalind's cheeks as his fingers slip to the uppermost clasps of her corset, having finished her dress. But not a blush of excitement this time. A blush of shame. An image flashes up into her brilliant mind: the first time she'd seen it. Robert's penis, erect and pink, grasped in his perfect hand while they masturbated together. Then his hand quickly being replaced by hers and hers by his. The slippery, pearly seed dribbling out onto her fingers and his soft moans, both of them struggling to stay quiet in her bed.

"There." He finishes undoing her and she steps away, pulling the contraption off of herself and allowing the clothing to pool at her feet. The wave of shame passes quickly; time has lessened its weight on her conscience, although it may never fully be eradicated.

She turns and wraps her arms around his neck without warning, squeezing him into her belly and letting her breasts rest on his fair head.

"Cn't breaf," he muffles. She chuckles as his mischievous fingers come down on her weakness: two ticklish spots on her hips, just below her waist. 

"Good," she teases, maneuvering herself to straddle his lap. A look of mock sternness is settled across his groomed brows; Rosalind rolls her eyes and leans in for a kiss. A rogue hand traces the path of his soft happy trail, stopping at the piss slit of his pants and hooking it open. As encouragement, he deepens the kiss, poking at her lips with his tongue and placing a firm hand on her bottom.

Before he can stop her, she has him out into the cool air of the room and flush against her cunt.

"Ros," he warns, cutting off the kiss and jolting away from her. "Ros, I-"

"Why are you so set against simple contact?" she cuts him off, a year's worth of frustration sharp behind her words. She already knows his answer, but she needs this. She needs to feel his virility against her, to get as close to that shiny daydream as possible. The dream of him slipping inside, surrounding himself with her comfort. Taking her and filling her, getting her with child. A fat bouncing baby, chubby cheeks rosy as he cuddles it in his lap. 

This is as close as she's ever been able to get to that fantasy.

"You're cruel," he hisses, fingers digging into her ass. 

She knows how hard it is for him to restrain himself. His opinion of their dalliances is much more negative than hers: he refuses intercourse, even with advanced contraceptives stolen from other realities. He's much more affected by the taboo nature of the situation than she is, having struggled with distinguishing his love for her between that of a twin or lover.

But a child, even just the thought of it, is the worst of it for him.

He'd simply never forgive himself if their child came out twisted by their actions, made sick by their genetics. He couldn't make her suffer with the pain of a severely unhealthy child dying young. Even just the smallest risk of pregnancy is enough to scare him off of their joining. Despite the frustration it causes her, and her inability to understand his strong sense of morality, Rosalind can't help but love him all the more because of this sensitivity.

"Ros, stop, I don't trust myself to keep from taking you," he begs, hand now trembling on her hip as the head of his cock slips between her folds and only just barely enters her. "STOP!"

"Sorry," she whispers, releasing him and welling up at the pain in his crystal clear eyes. "That was remarkably selfish of me, my love. I am so sorry."

The tears are hot on her skin, dripping down onto his lap and her breasts. 

"I'll make it up you," she murmurs, repositioning herself so that she's kneeling in front of him.

"I will not allow you to pleasure me unless I'm also pleas-"

"No, you'll not allow me to do anything because I want to do this and you will not stop me," she fiercely interrupts, pushing up against him until his balls are resting in her cleavage. "Of course, I will stop if you want me to," she adds, voice softening.

"No...keep going," he mumbles, nuzzling into her hand as it caresses his cheek. "If it brings you pleasure it brings me pleasure, turtledove."

His breath catches when her lips meet his cockhead, insistently sucking at the tip until his foreskin is drawn into her silky mouth.

"Ros," he breathes, cradling her head with a soft yet masculine hand. The other she catches with her own, twining their fingers together on his thigh. Her tongue is skilled, teasing him to near madness before her mouth finally moves to take a tender testicle into its warmth. The other isn't neglected: she gently rubs the sensitive gland through his soft skin, reveling in the way his scrotum wrinkles in response.

The foreplay continues slowly and deliberately. She insists on building him up inch by inch, as always, to make his orgasm more intense. Her tongue kisses every last bit of his satiny skin, tracing his veins and overstimulating his frenulum until he's whimpering like a newborn pup under her ministrations. 

"It looks so angry," she observes at long while, sweetly flicking his swollen glans with a perfectly manicured finger. 

"Well, perhaps if you wouldn't torture me for so long," he grumbles, jolting when she bares her teeth and settles them around his shaft, gnawing out a small warning. "Fine, fine, I promise to keep my astute observations to myself."

Rosalind smiles and steadies him with a hand at his base, finally taking his entire length into her mouth. His wit is her favorite thing about him; nobody else has ever understood her humor or been able to fire it back like he has. For rather obvious reasons.

"I'm close," he pants, face twisting into a grimace of borderline painful pleasure.

"So soon? How disappointing," she purrs, earning a hearty smack to the back of the head and a breathless chuckle. Her pace increases, she's bobbing her head with determination now and adding her hand to gently twist his shaft. She'd memorized the movement while watching him masturbate, practicing until she could make him finish just as fast as he could himself.

"Ah, fuck, Ros!" he groans. He never swears unless it's during an orgasm. "Your breasts!"

She pulls off with a pop and continues jerking him off, gasping when he pinches her hard nipples between his fingers and gently squeezes. His cock gives one strong twitch and his mouth falls open, eyes rolling back ever so slightly as a desperate string of obscenities tumble from his lips. His cumshot is stronger than usual this time around, the first two spurts hitting her chin and the rest flowing thick over her slender hand. Leaning in to lick up the last of his dribbles, she busies herself with licking his shaft clean, earning a hiss of overstimulation.

Then, overcome with a surge of emotion, she slips her arms around his waist and snuggles close. She buries her face into the slight softness of his belly and rests her chin on his softening cock. He strokes her hair, whispering sweet nothings while she hugs him in a vice-like embrace.

"I don't know what I would do without you, darling," she confesses. "You're my life now. My everything."

Robert croons and hauls her up, falling back into the messy bed and squeezing her close as she rests atop him. He nuzzles his nose into her neck and inhales her scent, losing himself in the contact.

"As you are mine."

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr and Twitter: Maedhros36


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